Fallen - Lauren Kate [75]
“Hey,” Cam said, smoothing the back of her hair. She winced. She still had a bump back there from where she’d hit her head on the steps. “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?”
They’d been walking with the others across the grass toward the reception under the shade of one of the oak trees. A cluster of chairs had been set up practically one on top of the other. A nearby folding card table was strewn with stacks of stale-looking cookies, pulled from their generic boxes but still sitting in their inner plastic shells. A cheap plastic punch bowl had been filled with syrupy red liquid and had attracted several flies, the way a corpse might do. It was such a pathetic reception, few of the other students even bothered with it. Luce spotted Penn in a black skirt suit, shaking hands with the minister. Daniel was looking away from them all, whispering something to Gabbe.
When Luce turned back to Cam, his finger dragged lightly across her collarbone, then lingered in the hollow of her neck. She inhaled and felt goose bumps rise on her skin.
“If you don’t like the necklace,” he said, leaning into her, “I can get you something else.”
His lips were so close to brushing her neck that Luce pressed a hand to his shoulder and stepped back.
“I do like it,” she said, thinking of the box lying on her desk. It had ended up right next to Daniel’s flowers, and she’d spent half the night before looking back and forth between them, weighing the gifts and the intentions behind them. Cam was so much clearer, easier to figure out. Like he was algebra and Daniel was calculus. And she had always loved calculus, the way it sometimes took an hour to figure out a single proof.
“I think the necklace is great,” she told Cam. “I just haven’t had a chance to wear it yet.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, pursing his lips. “I shouldn’t press you.”
His dark hair was slicked back and showed more of his face than usual. It made him look older, more mature. And the way he looked at her was so intense, his big green eyes probing into her, like he approved of everything she held inside.
“Miss Sophia kept saying to give you space these last couple of days. I know she’s right, you’ve been through so much. But you should know how much I thought about you. All the time. I wanted to see you.”
He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand and Luce felt tears welling up. She had been through so much. And she felt terrible that here she was, about to cry, not over Todd—whose death did matter, and should have mattered more—but for selfish reasons. Because the past two days brought back too much past pain about Trevor and her life before Sword & Cross, things she thought she’d dealt with and could never explain, not to anyone. More shadows to push away.
It was like Cam sensed this, or at least part of this, because he folded her into his arms, pressed her head against his strong, broad chest, and rocked her from side to side.
“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s going to be okay.”
And maybe she didn’t have to explain anything to him. It was like the more deranged she felt inside, the more available Cam became. What if it was enough just to stand here in the arms of someone who cared about her, to let his simple affection steady her for a little while?
It felt so good just to be held.
Luce didn’t know how to pull away from Cam. He had always been so nice. And she did like him, and yet, for reasons that made her feel guilty, he was kind of beginning to annoy her. He was so perfect, and helpful, and exactly what she should have needed right now. It was just … he wasn’t Daniel.
An angel food cupcake appeared over her shoulder. Luce recognized the manicured hand holding it. “There’s punch over there that needs drinking,” Gabbe said, handing Cam a cupcake, too. He glared at its frosted top. “You okay?” Gabbe asked Luce.
Luce nodded.